Chances
by lovesbitch4spike
Summary: Willow's invites Tara to dinner for the first time after their painful break-up. W/T with just a splash of the B/S


Chances

A Tara/Willow Fanfic

Description: A Willow/Tara centric fic, with just a splash of the Buffy/Spike. A stand alone fic, not going to be a series.

Disclaimer: The characters from Buffy are not mine, sadly. They belong to the good people at Fox, the WB, UPN and of course the God of all things Buffy, Joss Whedon.

Spoilers: For everything that has happened on Buffy, through season six, episode Gone.

Feedback: Yes Please!

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Willow was at the Food 4 Less, looking at the produce. Ever since she had quit magic, Willow had been cooking up a storm. It was an easy way to keep her hands and mind busy, and it made good use of her talent for mixing things. Better to make soup than magical potions. The results were healthier and smelled a Hell of a lot better. She grabbed a few apples, adding them to her cart. She had just begun to inspect the cantaloupes, when a familiar flash of blond hair caught her eye.

Tara.

A wave of joy mixed with intense pain washed over her. All she wanted to do was throw her arms around her old lover, and never let go. But too much had happened, and she didn't want another confrontation. She attempted to hide behind the tower of fruit, unseen, until Tara passed her by. Unfortunately she delayed her plan a split second to long. Tara spotted her mid-duck.

"W-w-willow?"

Having been spotted, Willow straightened and ventured into conversation, hoping the results would be positive.

"Hi Tara, I was just looking at the melons . . ." Willow stopped herself. Indeed, the melons in her hands were hardly the ones she was thinking of. She quickly put the offensive fruit down. It wasn't ripe anyway. Blushing, Willow struggled to change the topic. "How have you been?"

"O-o-okay." Tara was clearly nervous, fighting against her stutter. The stutter seemed to win. "I f-found a new place. I-it's nice."

Willow forced a smile. "That's good."

"A-and you? How are you, Willow?" Tara asked. She looked deep into Willow's eyes. She really wanted to know.

Willow sighed. "I've been better. I gave up magic, for real this time. Did Dawn tell you?" Tara nodded. "It's been 14 days, no spells, nothing. It's hard, but—"

"But you'll get through it," Tara said, laying a hand on her shoulder. 

Willow felt an electrical tingle go through her. Tara's touch was so soft, so delicate, and she had missed her so much. It took every ounce of strength Willow had to restrain herself from showering Tara's face with kisses.

Tara must have felt the tingle as well, for her touch lingered. But all to soon her features hardened, and she pulled her hand away, breaking the contact.

"It was so good to see you again," Willow told her, fighting to keep from breaking down.

"It was good to see you too, Willow," Tara said, starting to walk away.

Willow decided to take a chance.

"Wait! Tara, I'm cooking this dinner tonight. I've been cooking a lot lately, seems like all I do. Except for hack with the computer, but not the magic way, the old fashioned way, though we do have Ethernet so it isn't quite as old fashioned and, well what I'm trying to say is there'll be lots of food. Do you want to . . . are you willing to come over? Everyone misses you: Buffy, Xander, and Anya, not to that mention Dawn hardly gets to see you now, though that's not your fault, it's mine, but . . ." There simply was no other way to put it. "I miss you."

"I miss you too," Tara said, "but I don't know if that's such a good idea, this soon after you gave up m-magic. Maybe we should wait."

"Oh. Okay." Willow could feel her heart breaking. Again. She turned to try and find solace in the nectarines.

"Still," Tara went on, "it would be good to spend more time with Dawn." Tara gave Willow a sweet smile, and the shattered pieces of the redhead's heart began to glue themselves back together.

"I-i-is seven o' clock good for you?" Willow asked. To her amusement, she found that she had momentarily picked up the other girl's stutter.

"That sounds fine," Tara said.

They said their goodbyes and Willow hurried to finish up her shopping. All the way to the check out counter, she found her feet doing the little snoopy dance. She hummed to herself a slightly off key version of "Under Your Spell." Things were definitely looking up.

* * *

Spike walked through the back door of the Summer's house. "Good evening, Luv." Spike told Buffy.

"I told you, stop calling me Luv," Buffy answered, her tone cold.

"Sorry, forgot 'bout that Goldilocks. Don't get your knickers in a bunch." He took a closed look at her. "Speaking of Goldilocks, what happened to your hair?"

"I cut it."

"Why?"

Buffy was beginning to get annoyed. Okay, so she'd already been annoyed. She was beginning to get fed up.

"Because I felt like a change, alright? What is this, twenty questions?"

Spike moved closer to her. "No need to get all hot and bothered, Sweetheart."

"I am not getting . . . hot," Buffy protested, knowing full well she was.

"Of course not." Spike leaned in, running his fingers through the recently chopped locks. "At least it won't get in the way when we . . ."

"There's nothing for it to get in the way of, because *we* are not doing anything ever again."

Spike straightened, halting the seduction in process. "Fine. I'll just head back to my crypt then. Should I expect you along in a few minutes?" Spike asked her.

Buffy glared at him. "I really hate you sometimes, you know that?"

Spike answered her with mock seriousness. "Hate you too, Sweetheart." He kissed her roughly. Buffy became mere putty in his hands. Clothing flew. Vampire and slayer fell, entangled, onto the kitchen table.

"Oh God." It was not Buffy, but Willow who spoke. She had managed to walk in right in the middle of the shag-fest.

"Willow!" Buffy said, trying desperately to appear as if everything was normal. "This isn't what it looks like."

"Yeah, she doesn't even like me," Spike added. "She's only using me for sex."

Buffy shot him a dirty look. "Spike, you are *so* not helping."

Willow attempted to avert her eyes, but failed miserably.

"I don't believe this!" Willow exclaimed.

"Look, I know how you all feel about Spike, but—"

"I could care less if it was Spike or the entire Troika!" Willow began to rant. "I have enough to worry about with Tara coming over tonight. The last thing I need is to have to fight to repress the disturbing mental pictures floating around in my head!"

"That's nice. How is Tara anyway?" Spike asked. "I always liked that girl."

"Spike," Buffy said, "shut up!"

"Um, I'm gonna go to my room and try to think happy thought while you two finish whatever you're doing here. No, don't even try to explain. I really don't want to know." With that, Willow stormed up the stairs.

* * *

After showering and changing, Buffy came back in the kitchen to find Willow vigorously scrubbing down the table with disinfectant.

"Are you mad at me?" Buffy asked her.

Willow stopped her cleaning and looked up. "I guess not. I just don't see why you didn't tell me about this. We *are* best friends, last time I checked."

"I tried a few times, but there was just so much going on. You had your own issues to deal with. Besides, I wasn't sure you'd understand."

"Right," Willow told her sarcastically, "because I couldn't possibly understand what it's like to fall for someone I'm not supposed to love."

"Hey, who said anything about love?" Buffy protested.

"Buffy, last time I checked you weren't exactly a local resident of slutsville," Willow told her. "You kind of have this weird notion of only sleeping with people you care about."

"Well, I . . ." Buffy began before tactfully deciding to change the subject. "So, Tara is coming over then?"

"Yeah. I ran into her and invited her to dinner."

Buffy smiled. "That's good. I'm glad. You two . . . you belong together."

"I hope she still think that." Willow furrowed her brow. "I'm not sure if even intense groveling is enough to fix what I've done to her."

Buffy was supportive. "Well, you have to try. Do you want any help making dinner?"

Willow appreciated the gesture, even if Buffy wasn't exactly a great chef. Buffy's usual idea of cooking was ordering a Pizza, or occasionally some Chinese for variety's sake. "Sure, you can cut up fruit for the fruit salad."

* * *

Dinner was nice. The chicken was a little bland. All the spices in the house had been thrown out, since they could double as magic supplies. Buffy, Dawn, Xander, and Anya were also there. Spike, however, was not present, which Willow considered fortunate. She was willing o be supportive of Buffy's romantic endeavors, but that didn't mean that she wanted to think about them any more than she had to.

Afterwards she asked Tara, "Can we talk?"

Tara nodded. They went to the back porch and sat down. There was no moon that night, just an array of stars twinkling madly. This was the moment Willow had been both looking forward to and dreading throughout the entire evening.

"I still love you," Willow said, "more than ever."

"I love you too, Will," Tara replied, "b-but this isn't about that anymore."

"I know. I'm so sorry, about everything. If I could take it all back I would. But I can't change time, not without falling off the wagon. Do you think you can ever forgive me?" Willow looked at Tara with pleading eyes.

Tara took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "It's not a matter of forgiving you Willow. It's a matter of trusting you."

"Do you think you can ever trust me again?"

"I don't know," Tara answered.

Willow blinked back tears. "I know I deserve this."

Tara 's resolve began to melt. "I want to say yes, Will. More than anything in the world, I want to take you back. But it can never be the way it was before. You know that."

"It could be better."

Tara gave her a faint smile. "M-maybe if we take it slow. We could try again, take one last chance."

Willow felt the happiest she'd ever been in life. "You won't be sorry Tara, I promise you!" She threw her arms around the blond. Tara returned the hug, gently.

"Slow," Tara told her.

"Slow."

Slowly, very slowly the two came together, their lips blending in a tender kiss.


End file.
